Get in the Car, Jupiter by Fisher Amelie


  “Jupiter, are you still asleep?” Ezra asked.

  “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’ll get up and start getting ready,” I told him.

  “Can we talk?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I want to chat it up real badly, but can it wait? I only have an hour.”

  “Sure,” he said, sounding disappointed.

  It got quiet. “Ezra?” I asked.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “I promise. Just give me an hour.”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding better.

  I rushed to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. I ran a hand up my leg to make sure my morning shave still held up, which it did, and inspected the ol’ mane.

  “Whoa, Nelly!”

  The nap did her in.

  I grabbed my curling iron from my bag and sectioned off my hair, re-curling and setting the curls with a duckbill clip again to cool. I washed my face, applying moisturizer, primer, and makeup, then rifled through my bag for a pair of underwear that wouldn’t show through Melissa’s skirt, but also wouldn’t make me want to kill myself. It was a fine line.

  I came up with a pair that satisfied all requirements and put them on. I dabbed a little vanilla on my pulse points and let my hair down, turning over and spraying it lightly with hairspray. I flipped back over and shook out the whole thing.

  I glanced over at the clock. Seven fifteen. Dang. Carefully, I dressed in Melissa’s borrowed outfit, wishing I’d eaten when I had the chance, because there was no way in hell I was going to let any food or drink anywhere near her expensive clothes. I sat at the edge of the bed and strapped on the stilettos. I stepped in front of the mirror in the bathroom.

  “That’ll do, Pig.”

  I cracked open the door and a multitude of voices poured down the hall. I was late. Pretty late. I wondered if that would offend Rosie. I made a mental note to apologize to her when I found her. Based on the volume of the voices, I doubted she had time to worry about why I was late, though. The hall where my room was, was dark to discourage guests from wandering down into the private bedrooms, I assumed.

  As quietly as I could, I edged through the hall, trying not to trip out over the fact that Melissa’s stilettos cracked against the ancient wood floor like a judge’s gavel with every step I took. Eventually I reached the wide main hall where there had to be at least a hundred people mingling about, talking with one another.

  Music rang through the house and I noticed Rosie had chosen a modern playlist, or had allowed one of her boys to pick it out. That seemed more likely the case. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the shadows of the hall and out into the light. Half the room turned my direction to see who had emerged from the dark. I resisted the urge to raise the middle of my forearm to my nose and cackle, “I vant to drink your blud!”

  Many of those eyes turned back to their conversation, but some turned toward the kitchen, as if they saw or heard someone or something I didn’t.

  They followed someone crossing through the main hall, looking back and forth between me and whomever else distracted them until I saw who they’d been staring at.

  It was Ezra. In a tux. Ezra in a bleeding tux.

  Ho.ly. Ca.nno.li. Sign me up!

  Why? Why do you have to be so hot?

  He was staring at me, almost through me, and my stomach flipped over and over again. He walked with purpose toward me and people took notice.

  When he reached me, he stood at least two feet away and I reveled in the fact I didn’t have to strain my neck to look into his eyes. He stuck two fingers at his collar and pulled, running his fingers across the front.

  “Jupiter,” he said, his voice deep, almost hoarse.

  “Ezra,” I countered.

  “I—” he began, but didn’t, or couldn’t, finish.

  His eyes raked me from my toes, perusing slowly, all the way to my face. It did things to my belly. I tried to take a deep breath in that moment but couldn’t pull in enough air. I rocked my weight from one foot to the other and that’s when I noticed Kai had moved toward us, watching us. He raised a brow at me, trying to hide his smile, and gave me the okay sign with his fingers. I looked next to him and saw Milo. His face looked pale and wounded, which speared me in the gut for a minute.

  When I looked back at Ezra, he’d moved closer to me, leaning against the wall I stood near.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my entire life,” he told me. His tone was severe, though, like he was struggling with something.

  “But?” I asked, leaning a shoulder against the same wall to face him.

  “But nothing.” He laughed without humor. “I’m not leaving anything out, Jupiter.”

  I felt my neck heat to an impossible warmth then as it crept up my face. He saw it and he liked it if his smile was any indication.

  “I’m having difficulty with something,” I told him.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “Why did you tell Cameron you were giving me a ride to Seattle?”

  “Because she asked.”

  “And that’s all you offered?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” I asked, feeling the heartsick come flying to the surface again.

  “Because we hadn’t discussed anything yet and I didn’t want to start calling you my girlfriend around my cousins without talking to you about it first.”

  “It wasn’t because you hooked up with her last year at Kai’s graduation and you were trying to keep your options open?”

  “Absolutely not,” he answered, a look of revulsion on his face.

  “Okay,” I said, processing what he’d said.

  “Are you?” he asked.

  “Am I what?”

  “With me? Exclusively?” he pressed. He took one step closer to me.

  His shoulders strained against Kai’s borrowed tux, his hands tucked into the crooks of his arms. I studied his fingers and wondered if he would put them on my skin soon. I swallowed the thought; the idea tasted too sweet to pass up.

  “What exactly would a girlfriend of Ezra Brandon be?” I asked, stepping forward. Only a few inches separated us.

  “She’d be kissed,” he said, pulling back the fabric of my top slightly and pressing his lips at the dip between my collarbones. “Touched.” He ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “Told things.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear that he’d want me always. “Worshipped,” he continued. Ezra ran both his hands through my hair, tilting my head back, and kissed a line up my throat that made me almost fall over. He caught me and held me upright. “Cared for,” he told me. He paused and swallowed hard. “Loved,” he said with finality as the palm of his hand found the top of my chest and pressed deeply but gently.

  I felt my eyes water. “She’d be all those things, would she?”

  “To name a few,” he teased.

  I took a deep breath and stared into the eyes. “My name is Jupiter Corey and I’m Ezra Brandon’s girlfriend,” I told him. They were words I didn’t think I’d ever get to say, words I could not have enjoyed more.

  He smiled as he placed his hands at my jawline and walked me backward into the dark hall. All pretense aside since Rosie’s guests could no longer see us, he kissed me deeply, his lips bruising mine, his breath hot against my face, his hands exploring my shoulders, hair, and neck.

  We heard someone clear their throat in the main hall. “Um, Ezra?” Kai or Milo, I wasn’t sure, asked. Ezra’s mouth pulled away except for a feather touch. His lips slightly parted and his hands gripped my face. He groaned, frustrated beyond belief, and I seconded the motion. His eyes opened but his lips stayed.

  “Don’t you dare move,” Ezra whispered against my mouth, his voice echoing against my skin.

  As if he knew what I needed, he pressed me against the hall’s wall, a hand on my hip, squeezing the bone there, his body pressed into mine.

  “What’s up, Kai?” Ezra asked as coolly as possible.

  I didn’t know how he could speak so calmly when his mouth i
nched over my throat. You’re burning me up from the outside in. It was a slow, violent heat. I swallowed and his eyes followed the movement.

  “Sorry, man,” Kai said, a smile in his voice, “but Mama and Melissa want to see Jupiter.”

  “Tell them to buzz off,” Ezra said, finding my mouth with his again.

  Kai laughed. “That’s not gonna fly,” he said. “Meet me in the kitchen or they’ll come after you personally.”

  Ezra pulled back, taking my bottom lip with him briefly. He looked at me with those lidded eyes, so I lifted myself on my toes and kissed each one.

  “Oh God,” he said. “Why are we here?” he asked me.

  I giggled softly. “Because you love your aunt?”

  He sighed. “True, but right now I don’t like her very much.”

  I playfully pushed him. “Come on,” I said, grabbing his hand.

  “Uh, Jupiter,” he said, yanking me back lightly.

  “Huh?”

  “You, uh, might want to, uh, check your hair and maybe your lipstick.”

  He followed me to the guest room and I flipped on the light. We both adjusted to the sudden brightness. I stepped into the bathroom and leaned over the mirror. He leaned against the jamb of the door, looking suave as shit, and staring at me.

  I smiled at him. “Don’t I wear your kiss well?” I goaded, trying to clean smeared lipstick off my face.

  “You wear it so well I can’t stop looking at you.”

  “Don’t then,” I whispered, smoothing away the messy parts of my hair.

  I turned around once I’d reapplied my lipstick and removed evidence of my first application from his mouth. I gripped his chin in my hand and rubbed my thumb across his bottom lip.

  “I don’t like it,” he told me.

  “Like what?” I asked, leaning across from him against the opposite jamb, our knees and legs mixing together.

  “There’s no smoking gun,” he told me, his hands tucked into his pants pockets. He gestured to my face and hair. “No proof that my lips ever met yours, that my tongue ever tasted your skin.”

  Two fingers went to my swollen lips. “I can feel you. Still.”

  He stood tall, unbuttoning his fitted jacket, and gripped the edges of the trim above my head with both hands. I looked up at his straining fingers.

  “If it were up to me, you’d feel me here,” he spoke, barely brushing his lips against mine before breaking away, “always.”

  I reached up to kiss him again, deeper.

  He stopped me by sedately leaning back against his side of the doorway, a knowing smile on his face.

  I smiled back. “Rosie?”

  He let out a deep breath, looked toward the bed, then back at me.

  “Don’t tempt me,” I murmured low, as if his glance were a question.

  “No,” he said, with resolution. “Don’t tempt me.” He stood from leaning and grabbed my hand. “Come on, partner in crime.”

  Ezra led me down the dark hall, his hand firmly in mine, and into the dazzling lights, sounds, and voices of the party. He walked in a relaxed, detached way, the only real indication that anything had happened between us in that dark hallway was his thumb circling the bottom of my palm.

  I looked around at the crowded rooms and noticed a lot of younger people our age with their parents. Must be Kai’s old and Milo’s current classmates, I thought. I moved my eyes to the entrance of the living room and caught Cameron’s stare set on where Ezra held my hand.

  Her gaze went to my face. She startled then gave me a pleasant, albeit forced, smile. She waved, so I lifted my free hand to wave back. I left my face as open and kind as possible at her. I hoped it worked.

  Ezra dragged me into the kitchen where Kai and his brothers and a handful of other handsomely dressed people, including Melissa and a man, all stood.

  The group stopped their conversation to watch us come through. My face flamed knowing they had to be aware what we’d been up to now that Ezra held my hand so brazenly in front of them.

  “Jupiter!” Melissa exclaimed, hugging me around the shoulders. She pulled back. “You are stunning!”

  “Thank you so much,” I told her. “Clothes make the girl and all that.”

  “No, honey,” Rosie chimed in, “the girl makes the clothes.”

  “Thank you, Rosie.”

  “Looking a little worse for wear there, Ezra,” Kai taunted. “You doing okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Ezra answered, but the indifferent facade broke when he started straightening his jacket again, pulling at his shirt sleeves, and running a hand through his hair.

  Kai’s shoulders shook trying to prevent himself from laughing. I stared out the kitchen windows suddenly interested in the buildings outside.

  “Jupiter looks sick tonight, right, Ezra?” Kai continued on, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Ezra looked down at the floor, his hands in his pockets. “She looks great,” he confirmed.

  “She really does, doesn’t she, Milo?” Kai asked his brother, like a jackass.

  Milo didn’t answer.

  “Like a hundred bucks,” Kai interjected.

  “I think the expression is ‘like a million bucks,’” Bear corrected him. He was so adorable. I pinched his cheek playfully and a blush swept across his face.

  Kai looked at Ezra. “No, I stand by what I said.”

  Ezra’s throat started turning red and a hand went to the back of his neck. I didn’t fully understand what was going on, but I knew I was missing something. This was more than Kai just trying to embarrass Ezra a little in front of his extended family. Everyone got really quiet, wondering what was actually happening. I don’t think Kai realized it, but he was making me just as uncomfortable.

  Milo slipped away from the chatting group. My eyes followed him as he approached the wall-mounted pad that ran the music running throughout the house. R. Kelly’s “Igniton Remix” began to play. I burst out laughing as the young in the house oooohed.

  “You are hilarious,” I told Milo.

  “Hey!” he yelled over his hollering classmates, dancing in the main hall. “It was your request.” He walked around me and grabbed me by the wrist. “Come on,” he told me, “you owe me a dance.”

  Ezra’s brow pinched in confusion. Don’t worry, I mouthed as Milo led me to the dance floor packed full with half the guests at the party.

  “Make some room!” I shouted, my arms wide. “Y’all ’bout to be schooled!”

  For some reason people thought that was funny. They just don’t know!

  I channeled the gutter-ball dance from The Big Lebowski. Milo and several others around us couldn’t stop laughing. What is wrong with these peeps? Don’t they know I am an excellent gosh damn dancer?

  “Pipe down, player!” I shouted at Milo over the music. “You’ve never seen moves like this!” I said, popping my hips out.

  Milo played along, trying to keep his laughter from taking over. As we shimmied around the floor, we’d created a pocket of people around us, including Ezra and Kai, both with tears in their eyes. What is so funny? I wanted to shout. I contemplated their reactions as I thrust my hands in pointed movements above my head and out all around. Could I be a horrible dancer? I asked myself as I ran in place. That can’t be it.

  When the song came to a close, Chuck Berry’s “You Never Can Tell” spilled over us. I almost squealed in excitement.

  “You?” I shouted at Ezra, pulling him toward me with an imaginary rope.

  He smiled as he playfully Travolta twisted in front of me, taking Milo’s spot.

  “Dance good,” I told him.

  We Pulp Fiction’ed the crap out of that song without skipping a single step. Tarantino would be proud. Possibly aghast. Later, I would think both.

  The rest of the night, we all flung and flailed around each other, taking the occasional water break in the kitchen to rehydrate. Kai tried his hand at Michael Flatley’s Lord of the Dance. It was the kind of dancing that, had I been drinking, the ne
xt day I would have told everyone I knew what a talented Irish dancer he was. Since I was sober, though, I still planned on telling everyone I knew. I absently noticed someone taking video of him and made a mental note to find out who it was. He could never run for president.

  When it got late and most of the older people left, leaving their young to their youthful indiscretions, the lights were turned low and the music followed suit with lots of slow dancing and idle hands. When I say idle hands, I mean that the boys’ rambled and the girls’ slapped. Periodic ows rang out around us.

  Ezra and I were in the kitchen, resting our feet. We each laid on a bench, feet to head, staring at one another from underneath the table. I’d ditched my shoes in my room about halfway through the night and stared down at my painted toes. Ezra craned his neck to see what I was looking at.

  He smiled. “Did you make those feet pretty for yours truly?” He acted flattered. It was a ruse, but it made me happy anyway.

  “Cointainly!” I answered and offered a foot for him to examine.

  He grabbed it, his thumb resting in the arch, and massaged. I glanced at the clock on the stove. It read two in the morning.

  My eyes began to droop. “Tryin’ to make me sleepy?” I asked.

  “No, Jupiter,” his voice, rough from the night, answered. “If it were up to me, neither of us would ever sleep again.”

  I looked at him, curious. “Why?”

  “Every second I get with you I want to be awake, that’s why.” He smiled and reached for the other foot. I gave it to him, suddenly very alert. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone as alive as you. I want to absorb anything you’re willing to lend.” He rubbed my foot. It looked as if he was working up to something, so I stayed silent. “After the accident, something died in me, Jupiter, and you revived it. Colors are brighter, foods taste extraordinary, music sings brilliant, views dazzle. You are excitement and harmony all in one, Jupiter. You’ve weaved yourself so well through me there’s no tearing you out. I don’t want you out. You fill those strange, empty places. You make me happy.”

  “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” poured through the speakers onto the surface of the table and spilled over our bodies. I took my foot away and slid beneath the table. My fingers tugged at his rolled shirt sleeve since he’d abandoned his jacket, and I pulled him below with me. I held his face in my hands, studied his expressions, his skin.

 
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